


Erwin Week Day 3 - Commander Handsome

by ClarissaNotFound



Series: Erwin Week 2017 [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 18:57:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12564016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClarissaNotFound/pseuds/ClarissaNotFound
Summary: Levi enjoys observing Erwin's morning routine.





	Erwin Week Day 3 - Commander Handsome

Some precious days, when neither of us had need to rush off for some early meeting or training, I would stay in his room and watch the rare treat that was Erwin going through his sleepy but meticulous morning routine.  
  
First he would shave. Every day, without fail, he would pull that blade over his barely-there hairs. Then he would wash his face, scrubbing pink skin even pinker, until he was satisfied it was as clean as could be. So clean even I approved.  
  
Next came teeth. Sometimes while he did that I made him a coffee. Other times I joined him so that we stood side by side in the bathroom mirror for a few rare moments of quiet and calm. As if we were normal idiots living some normal idiotic life. I let myself pretend. Just for those few minutes.  
  
When he at last moved on to his hair I always stopped whatever I was doing to watch. He does it with such concentration that I can stare at his face without him noticing. That shitty, ridiculous, handsome fucking face.  
  
He would hold himself very still but for the motion of his arm slowly sweeping blonde strands into place, and my eyes would drop down to skate first on those angular cheek bones, all the way down to the slopes of his jaw, navigating the sharp, curving angles until I reached back up to his lips, plump and soft. I liked to rest on them for a few seconds of respite before climbing my way back up, all the way to the clear skin of his forehead, stroking the creases of his worries, and walk through his eyebrows as if they were inviting spots of grass. Finally I’d jump off them, going for a long, cooling swim in the blue of his eyes.  
  
Just as he was almost finished, I would go over and wrap my arms around him, pressing my face into his shoulder blades, marvelling at the ripples of his muscles as he carefully tucked the last of his hair into place, every single piece exactly where he had decided it should be. He would turn to me, once satisfied, and I would place my finger right in the bend between his eyes, at the top of his nose, and drag it down the bridge until I reached the tip, giving it the tiniest of taps. He always smiled, that bright, warm, open, disarming smile that I could only ever get out of him so early in the day, before the stresses of command could come flooding in. At last he bends down to kiss me with that same smile, and without fail look down at me, face contouring into barely-concealed self-consciousness and ask;  
  
“How do I look?”  
  
And I would sigh.  
  
“Not bad.”


End file.
